


Sacrifice Drabbles and Shorts

by misch3fbunni3



Series: Icarus Rebirth [4]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Choking, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Drabble Collection, Drunkenness, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Drinking, Humiliation, M/M, Mention of Assault, Minor Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield, Rough Body Play, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Sex Toys, Tears, Tumbling emotions, Wesker!Switch, sutures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26343628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misch3fbunni3/pseuds/misch3fbunni3
Summary: A collection of drabbles and shorts from The Sacrifice of Icarus timeline focusing on Wesker's and Chris's relationship that would not fit anywhere else in the chapters. Some will be happy, some sad, and some funny. And of course, a few filled with smut. Tags will change and chapters will have their own specific warnings in the notes.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker
Series: Icarus Rebirth [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749898
Comments: 15
Kudos: 23





	1. Peace Offering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker gives Chris control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a long time to figure out how I wanted everything to play out as I wanted this to focus on Wesker’s physical control and how far these two had to come in order to be intimate. Warnings: everything in the tag line 2-17

This was a peace offering.

Wesker was giving up complete control to Chris to do as he pleased.

Chris snatched up the collar and key Wesker had thrown on the counter and turned completely to face the older man who only wore a pair of thin sleep pants, feet bare, already in the assumed position, his eyes tilted completely downward now and expression neutral.

Chris stepped forward and pressed his body tightly against Wesker’s, and gently tilted the submissively positioned chin up to place a chaste kiss against the passive lips, “You may.” In which the blonde returned the action immediately in the same fashion he received it.

In the time it took for Wesker to fully control his new strength, the two lovers had to find a way to compromise and be creative, in which their sexcapades took a slightly kinkier turn. Experimenting into the realm of deviance brought out the best and the worst in both of them, and it enabled Wesker to control his strength and still enjoy the pleasures of the flesh with Chris. Maybe even more so than before.

Pocketing the key for now, Chris brought the collar up and tenderly fastened the intricately designed leather around Wesker’s neck, making sure it was snug. Suddenly, Chris grabbed the pale neck in a bruising grip, cutting off the blonde’s air supply and pushing Wesker back bodily against the island counter harshly, grinding against the already throbbing erection through the thin pants, “You do everything I say, Love. Without a word. And maybe. Just Maybe. I’ll let you cum.”

A sharp up and down motion of the struggling red face torn between panic and pure ecstasy was the brunette’s only answer. Chris released his grip, and an incredibly controlled silent gasp for air shuddered against his chest.

Pleased at Wesker’s impeccable timing, there were no urgent plans for either of them the next morning, or afternoon, for that matter. Their mission against Free Arcadia not until the late evening. They had time to play.

Wesker knew Chris was furious at him. After hearing the crash of furniture the day prior, he had raced back to check on the brunette and seeing the overturned desk and papers still fluttering in the air, the other red-faced and pulling at his hair in fury, Wesker knew he had crossed the line.

Quickly making his way back outside once he realized Chris was alright. Feeling only slightly guilty. Just slightly. Despite his misgivings, Wesker had schemed evilly. Knowing full well, Chris would demand blood for the havoc the blonde had brought upon them, Wesker had to play his cards just right.

Now, Wesker wanted to see how dark Chris would take things, how far Chris would push him to maintain control. It had been some time since the blonde had seen Chris this mad, and it be directed at him personally.

It would be a night to remember.

Chris gazed deeply at the blonde, searching the face for any misgivings, but only pure lust shown in the pulsing orbs, so dilated they were like flaming coronas. Wesker was still breathing heavily, trying to regain his momentum, arms balancing along the counter behind him, legs shaking in anticipation. Chris rocked into the blonde’s already straining erection, causing the body to shudder intensely again.

Without warning, Chris reached down to hook his arms between Wesker’s legs and wrapped them around each thigh to heave the blonde up and onto the island counter, scattering everything that was in the path of the flailing torso onto the floor with a crash, a very small noise of surprise at the unexpected upheaval was ripped from the older man.

Wesker’s eyes widened in panic as Chris grinned at him accusatorily, the sound having slipped from the violent motion of being thrown on the counter. Chris moved in between the spread legs, releasing the other’s thighs to run his hands up Wesker’s chest, massaging as they went, “I believe I said, ‘Without a word.’ I still want to hear you.”

Chris slightly dug his fingers into the pale skin as he made his way up to the blonde’s collarbone. Some of the shimmering skin leftover from Wesker’s shoulder injury rippled under the blunt nails as Wesker breathed in sharply, the skin still incredibly sensitive, the hand finally resting firmly around the back of Wesker’s neck.

Wesker, having gained control back of his breathing, now remained silent, steady, measured breaths as he watched as Chris broke eye contact to stare at the erection directly in front of him, precum staining the thin pants.

Chris flicked his eyes up to capture the pulsing coronas as he slowly leaned forward, bringing his mouth just above the tented fabric and blowing hot breath against it. Slowly, Chris dragged one hand down the other's chest, red lines left in their wake. Snagging the waistband of Wesker’s pants, Chris dragged them down to release the throbbing cock to bob in front of him. Chris continued to blow air at the weeping appendage as Wesker’s brows furrowed, sucking air between clenched teeth. Chris leaned back slightly to drag the sleep pants down the rest of the way, bringing the blonde’s legs back together for the material to slide down to pool over Chris’s feet.

Chris placed a gentle hand on one knee to spread the now bare legs wide to resituate himself between them again, and he could feel the subtle vibration as Wesker’s control over his body was challenged, sweat already breaking out across the blonde’s brow and torso. Chris quickly grabbed the base of Wesker's erection and deepthroating the weeping cock, causing the blonde’s body to jerk at the unexpected action, a low moan escaping the older man’s lips as he arched his back. Wesker’s hands struggled to find purchase to lean up further, knocking more items off to scatter across the floor.

Chris backed off to hiss against the head of Wesker’s cock, “Yesss, I want you to watch every second of this since you love being watched so much. I’m going to make you watch yourself and everything I’m going to make you do.” Chris went back to sucking the throbbing cock in front of him, causing Wesker to shudder against him, the blonde hands clenched into white-knuckled fists against the counter.

Chris brought Wesker right up to the cusp of orgasm and pulled back wholly, cinching his hand around the base of the blonde’s throbbing cock, Chris observed his work. Wesker was already a shaking mess, sweating profusely and gasping, a small whine escaping at being denied.

Chris stayed that way for several minutes to let the blonde back down from the edge. Chris whispered as he started to stroke Wesker very slowly, “Don’t think I don’t know what you did, Love.” Maintaining eye contact, Chris watched as Wesker’s eyes widened. Without context, he wasn’t sure what all Chris could be talking about, though one thing came to mind. His little chat with Piers.

Chris finally released the back of Wesker’s neck to drag his other hand over the sensitive shimmering skin and down the blonde’s body. Over the chiseled stomach and sharp hips, Chris gently ran his fingers down Wesker’s inner thigh to cup and play with his scrotum before dancing lower. Wesker’s whole body hitched up as his breath caught in his throat, eyes wide, as Chris pressed three fingers against his perineum and started to gentle roll his fingers against the area.

Between Chris stroking his cock agonizingly slow and now his other hand digging into his perineum, Wesker was in an agonized state of euphoria. Chris watched as the muscles of the blonde’s body contracted with each agonizing second, bringing the blonde to the brink and then stopped, again, gripping the base of Wesker’s cock and pulling his hand away to push one trembling thigh wider, running calloused fingers over the violently contracting muscles.

Chris grinned as the blonde released a low moan, content with the state he had already brought Wesker’s body to even though it had only been about a half-hour, “You have no idea how angry you’ve made me.” Chris ran his hands along both of Wesker’s inner thighs, brushing along the straining erection teasingly watching the flesh twitch from his gliding fingers.

Feeling that Wesker’s arousal had receded enough, Chris ran a finger up the shaft and wrapped his hand around the aching appendage to roll his thumb over the weeping head, precum leaking heavily from the slit. Wesker tossed his head back, sweat-damp hair already dislodged from its pristine slicked back appearance; a deep groan rumbled the blonde’s chest, but he did not stop watching Chris. He knew better.

Chris leaned down to lick the head, looking up at Wesker, the reaction priceless as a whine escaped the trembling mouth. Chris licked down, catching up any sparkling liquid he may have missed, back up to the head and surrounded his lips around it only to quickly pop it out of his mouth, causing Wesker to hiss, his body over-sensitized.

Chris did this several more times until Wesker was writhing on the counter, small cries escaping with each ministration of the brunette’s mouth. Chris finally leaned back, having brought the blonde back to the edge again. Chris gazed at Wesker and chuckled darkly, “You’re drooling.”

Wesker brought a shaking fist up to quickly drag across his mouth, small smears of blood left on the damp skin from where his nails had dug into his palms and healed multiple times. Chris gripped Wesker’s hips and roughly pulled him forward towards him, forcing the blonde to sit upright from his partially reclined position so that the sweat covered chest was eye level, breaths barely controlled as Wesker stared down heatedly.

Smirking, Chris brought his hands up along Wesker’s lower back and up to his shoulder blades, the sweat allowing his fingers to glide over the burning skin, pulling the chest towards him as Chris latched onto one pert nipple, sucking and biting knowing full well that they were usually off-limits. Wesker groaned and arched more into the hot mouth, never breaking eye contact. It was a secret pleasure of his, despite the rough treatment that had turned him off from Chris touching his nipples so long ago, he did certainly enjoy the attention when Chris dared to play with them. Nicely, of course.

Wesker brought a hand up to press the face more into his skin, to urge the other to take things further, but froze just short of grabbing the brunette’s hair, the arm shaking in hesitation, Chris’s eyes dared him to touch without asking, and Wesker couldn’t ask because he wasn’t allowed to say a word.

The hand closed into a trembling fist and returned to the counter to brace Wesker’s weight from slipping backward, wanting Chris to continue his ministrations with that wet tongue against his chest. Wesker groaned again, pressing forward and jerking as Chris moved to the other nipple, who graced it with the same attention.

That is until Chris gently bit the nipple and held it between his teeth, attacking it with his tongue as he started to pull back, causing the blonde to cry out and suck his lower lip in between his teeth. A trickle of blood ran down Wesker’s chin from where his teeth pierced the soft skin of his lip.

Releasing the nipple, Chris gripped the blonde hair to jerk Wesker’s head down to slowly lick the small stream of blood, trying to catch it before any drops fell, knowing full well Wesker would become even more aroused at the action, which a whine escaped the clenched teeth. Chris licked across the other’s mouth, dragging the red fluid with it, who timidly unclenched his teeth, wanting to engage but again waiting for permission.

Chris smiled knowingly that Wesker certainly loved blood play, he obliged, “You may… but do not bite.” Wesker did not hesitate and ran his tongue against Chris’s, who fought against the greedy appendage, trying to be mindful of the blonde’s sharp teeth, which turned into a full-on heated kiss.

Wesker’s arms shook, wanting to wrap them around the brunette but not wanting to face punishment so soon. He didn’t have long to wait as Chris pulled Wesker closer, snaking his arms around the blonde’s lower back to scoot him towards the edge where his sweat-slicked body abrupted lost purchase on the counter and slid down against Chris to land on unsteady feet.

Wesker grunted against Chris’s lashing tongue, the roughness of the brunette’s clothes against his naked body, an unpleasant feeling, and he pulled back slightly, only to be wrenched into place against Chris by the fist still anchored in his hair. Chris slowly leaned back, releasing the blonde hair and allowing Wesker to take a deep, shaking breath.

Chris grabbed one of Wesker’s wrists and pulled him away from the counter to follow him into the open area between the kitchen, dining room, and living room and pointed to the floor, which Wesker obediently sat, feet curled under him and palms face down on his thighs, back straight, eyes down. Chris stood over the blonde, “Stay exactly. Like. That.” Which meant Wesker also had to maintain his erection, prompting the blonde to start exact measured breaths to maintain the height of arousal.

Chris lovingly smoothed loose strains of blonde back into place. Chris smiled, pleased with this arrangement, and stepped away towards his room to retrieve the case that the hidden key in his pocket belonged to. It had been some time since they had opened the case. Not since Wesker was able to maintain control of his speed and strength, which allowed Chris to finally be on the receiving end of their lovemaking.

Pulling the large black case from the closet, he used the key to open the padlock. Not that they had many visitors, but just in case. They didn’t want to advertise their exploits more than they already did. Chris examined the contents, thinking just how he wanted to torture the other man for his exhibitionist nature. He wanted to drag this out for as long as he could.

Breaking Wesker down to a sobbing mess would suffice the brunette’s anger. Wesker broke the rules, and he would pay dearly for it, but Chris also had to step lightly, not wanting to cause the blonde any flashbacks.

Picking through different things, he placed them out along the side of the bed one by one. Making his way around the room, Chris situated everything just right. Finally content, Chris now stood in his doorway, observing Wesker, who hadn’t moved a muscle but was covered in sweat, a pool of precum having collected in front of the blonde from where it had slid down the pale thighs.

Chris could tell Wesker was in agony, his breathing just barely controlled, wanting release but there was so much more planned. Chris stepped up to Wesker, who trembled slightly, eyes glassy from trying to maintain his physical state of heightened arousal. Gently Chris leaned down to cup Wesker’s jaw and lift the other’s head so their eyes could meet, “Are you ready to continue, Love?” The sweating blonde shook his head in the affirmative, trying to keep his focus on Chris’s face and not the straining erection against the pants Chris still wore.

Chris dropped his hand and offered an open palm, the gesture allowing Wesker to present his own hand and slowly stood with assistance, his legs cramped from kneeling for so long. Giving Wesker a moment to let any pins and needles subside, he then slowly motioned the blonde towards his room, where he had situated his plan to drag out Wesker’s punishment.

Observing the setup, Wesker was surprised at the simplicity of everything; nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, until he noticed the large anchored phallus-shaped toy on the floor at the end of the bed, strategically placed in front of the large mirror that had been installed months ago. Wesker swallowed, knowing that usually, such toys were very effective in stimulating him. Chris certainly was going to try to force him to cum without being given permission, he was being brutally tested.

Catching the blazing eyes on the toy, Chris pulled on the hand he still held, “That’s for later. I’m not done with you yet, Love.” Chris pointed at the bed in which he let go of the shaking hand as Wesker made his way to the center, looking back questioningly how Chris wanted him to lay. Chris pointed to the end of the bed, “That way, on your back, spread your legs.”

Wesker did as he was told, staring up at the now uncovered mirror above him they also had installed at the same time as the other mirror. Chris was certainly not joking when he said that Wesker was going to have to watch himself. Maybe he did take it too far with Piers. Wesker flushed pink, thinking back on his talk with the young man and his own encouragement.

Chris made quick work of his shirt and dropped his pants and boxers. Watching the seeming nervousness of the blonde, he smirked as he crawled up to situate himself by kneeling between Wesker’s spread legs that shook heavily, “Eyes up.” Wesker obliged and watched as Chris leaned over to grab one of the laid-out items on the other side of the bed. Wesker could see several things that certainly earned his interest and what their intended use might be.

Without any warning, Chris was suddenly lubing up Wesker’s clenched hole, teasing the muscle by barely pressing against it, just circling his fingers around and around, teasing as Wesker’s body jumped slightly, his cock bobbing as he took wheezing breaths. “I know you talked to Piers.”

Wesker startled as these words were spoken, and a finger pressed up inside him all the way to the calloused knuckle. An unexpected cry escaped him at the rough entry and the unexpected knowledge of his conversation. Wesker gapped at Chris wide-eyed but kept silent, not daring to give anything more away then he already had.

Wesker shuddered as another finger already probed at his entrance to slide against the already embedded digit inside him that was curling along his inner walls, causing his thighs to spasm as he tried to stop himself from any further movements.

Chris leaned over the other’s body to grip Wesker’s jaw and pushed the head back to stare upward as he edged the second finger in to open Wesker up more, scissoring his fingers against the tight muscle. However, Wesker quickly realized that his torment was far from over as Chris released his jaw to run along his body, avoiding his throbbing cock, and from what Wesker could see in the mirror, Chris had grabbed his own erection and started to stroke himself as he finger fucked the blonde.

Wesker arched his back, moaning as Chris’s fingers briefly touched his prostate and then retreated to continue stretching him as a third finger was added, “Breathe.” Wesker’s eye widened, Chris wanted him on the verge of cumming, but he knew the brunette would not let him. Not yet. Wesker tried to go back to controlled breaths, his chest rippling from the effort, knowing full well that Chris was jerking off getting closer to his own release, not sure how this was going to go.

Chris was rapidly approaching his climax, watching the blonde as he stared up at the mirror above them, breaths controlled to maintain his heightened arousal. Chris withdrew his fingers, and in a shaking demanding tone, “Roll over, on your knees, eyes up.” Wesker did as he was told, head back to watch them in the mirror opposite the end of the bed, ass presented towards Chris, who continued to stroke his cock now with the hand he used to lube up the other’s ass. Chris quickly squirted more lube into his hand and dragging the liquid over his erection, hissing from the action. Any access was slathered against the ass trembling before him.

Chris was so achingly close to coming, but he had a plan. He grabbed his cock and pressed the weeping tip against Wesker’s hole, pushing forward with shaking jerks to slip past the ring of muscle with ease, ripping a moan from the blonde’s trembling body as he set a harsh pace against the other who tried to respond but could only make quick short thrusts against the harsh pummeling. Wesker cried out, eyes closing as one well-placed jab sent a brutal shock of pleasure up his spine, but jerked the glowing orbs open when a fist gripped his hair tightly, wrenching his head to tilt back more to observe the dark smoldering glare reflected in the mirror.

Chris was panting heavily, and as Wesker’s blazing gaze met his in silent challenge, Chris buried deeply into the pulsing orifice, forcing the blonde to bow his back as the brunette came, grunting loudly. Still buried, Chris forced Wesker up by his hair to sit back against the brunette, who wrapped an arm around the heaving torso, the older man still achingly hard and no closer to any relief.

Chris murmured against the sweaty neck, “I want you to move with me to the edge of the bed, but first, choose one, quickly.” And Chris turned his head towards the items he laid out at the other edge of the bed, and Wesker’s attention followed. Wesker could guess where this was going, but his hesitation brought a swift penalty, “I’ll choose for you then.”

Picking the easiest item to maneuver, Chris grabbed the tactical belt and pulled Wesker’s arms behind him to bind the pale wrists together low with the thick material. They had learned early on that anything up higher or over the blonde’s head did not go over well, having caused flashbacks on more than one occasion.

Wesker’s breaths hitched as he watched himself be shifted forcefully by the tying hands behind him, Chris still imbedded inside him, half-hard, himself painfully aroused. Chris returned his glare to Wesker’s in the mirror, whispering, “Move with me until you can get your feet on the floor.” Grunting with the effort of maneuvering as Chris pushed him bodily forward, trying not to shift away from the cock inside him, Wesker was able to drag his legs to place his feet on the floor. Chris had positioned them so that the toy was situated right between the blonde’s trembling legs.

Wesker whined low, slowly realizing what the brunette intended for him to do. Chris reached back for something Wesker could not see until he heard the familiar pop of a lid and liquid being squirted into an unseen hand. Chris caught the nervous eyes and reaching over one sweat-slick thigh to generously apply the liquid to the toy, causing it to glisten menacingly.

Fingers gripped the blonde’s damp hair tightly, pulling the head back, causing Wesker to grimace, trying to maintain contact with the severe expression of the brunette behind him who was looking over his shoulder, “Now. I want you to hold it in. Do you hear me?” The hand released his hair to grip the back of his neck, and Wesker nodded, brows furrowed. Chris knew Wesker wanted to bite his lip, but hesitated. The sight and scent of blood would likely cause the blonde to be more aroused, which the older man did not want to accentuate any further.

Wesker was sucking in little gasps now. Chris murmured into the blonde’s shoulder, “Remember what I said, hold it. Now lift up, and I’ll guide you down.” Wesker took a moment, swallowing, sweat slid down his body, the effort to maintain control an incredible battle. Slowly he rose on violently trembling legs to let Chris’s half-hard erection slip out of him, to which he clenched down, holding the mess of Chris’s ejaculation inside him.

A shuddering gasp at the effort, Chris gripped Wesker’s sweat-slick hips and slowly pushed the blonde down until the glistening tip of the toy pressed against his entrance, causing Wesker's body to jerk. “Eyes up!” A hand now tightly pressed up against Wesker’s jaw, holding his head up to watch as Chris pushed at his hip to coerce Wesker to sink downward, the toy pressing more insistently until it breached the clenched muscle, causing Wesker to cry out at the larger object opening him up, filling him as Chris’s slight pressure forced him to lower himself completely. Wesker’s chest heaved, in between pleasure and pain of the object of dismay penetrating him, back arched to lean against the bed, Chris’s legs pressing into the backs of his arms.

Chris allowed Wesker a moment to adjust, knowing the blonde certainly enjoyed their expanse of toys over the last several months. Chris leaned down, watching the other’s expression as he whispered into the blonde’s ear, “Lower.” A whine escaped Wesker as he slipped lower, his head still head in place to see how much his body had consumed. Chris released Wesker’s jaw and grasped both of the blonde’s hips in his hands to steady the other’s moments, “Very, very, slowly, rise until it's out. Then I want you to drop and start all over again and don’t stop until I tell you too. Do you understand?”

Wesker nodded weakly. This task would almost undoubtedly undo him. He could feel the pressure against his insides, and it was torture as he oh so slowly rose up. A deep moan escaped him as he watched Chris’s essence slid along where his body had retreated from the toy. Violently shuddering, Wesker made a small noise as he fully pulled off the toy, the mess from Chris’s orgasm glistening along the toy. Wesker held himself up to try and give himself a moment to let the heavy arousal retreat, but a tight hand grasping the back of his neck caused him to drop immediately, forcing him to cry out at the intensity of being impaled so fully.

Wesker was so preoccupied with trying to maintain control and watching himself that he didn’t realize that Chris had coaxed himself back to full harness as he gently stroked his partial erection, watching Wesker fight so hard not to cum. It was a sight to behold, not quite where Chris wanted him yet, but he was getting close. Wesker was violently trembling, and his bound hands writhed behind him to find purchase and only able to grip each other.

“Stop.”

Wesker moaned as he had fully engulfed the toy once more, breaths uneven, almost on the verge. Chris slid from behind the blonde who shuddered as the small contacts with his skin as one of Chris’s legs brushed against his arms to swing back towards the bed, except now Chris was half kneeling on the bed, one muscled leg anchored to the floor next to the blonde, the weeping renewed erection within full view for Wesker who did not break his sight off the mirror.

Swiftly, Chris leaned over and grabbed something from the other side of the bed and presented them in front of Wesker, who looked at the proffered item and back up to Chris’s gaze in the mirror and Wesker obediently opened his mouth. Chris smirked and gently placed each mouthguard over the blonde’s upper and lower teeth, custom made to fit snugly and thick enough to prevent any accidental punctures from the sharp teeth.

Chris gently pressed up against Wesker’s chin and brought the other to rise up until he was level with the renewed weeping cock. The toy only partially inside the blonde now. Chris moved so that he was angled to allow Wesker to continue to watch, one foot anchored on the bed and the other on the floor.

Wesker couldn’t help but look up at Chris, and a hand gripped his hair, a deep growl forcing his eyes back to the mirror, “Watch.” The weeping head was pressed against Wesker’s lips who opened to lean forward to take the throbbing flesh into his mouth, wrapping his tongue along the shaft, causing the brunette to grunt at the expert handling.

The brunette above him spoke, and it caused Wesker to freeze, “I know what you suggested to him.” But the cock didn’t stop moving, and Wesker felt the hand in his hair tighten as Chris continued to thrust into the blonde’s mouth, deepening randomly, causing Wesker to not be able to anticipate when it was coming, each unexpected thrust causing him to gag slightly.

Chris could finally see involuntary tears build in the corners of those incredible blazing eyes. Chris’s mouth turned downward. He didn’t want to force Wesker, but the blonde had put him in a very bad position. However, this vision would suffice.

The sweat-drenched violently-trembling mess he had forced Wesker to be reduced to at this moment was enough to quell the raging temper that had enveloped him since the other day, which was accentuated when he found out Wesker not only came to interrupt the training of his soldier but had antagonized him and disrupted the young sniper’s focus.

The tears were not so much that Chris found out, but Wesker’s inability to completely control his reflexes, not having any reprieve, saliva slid down the thrusting shaft and dripped down the blonde’s chin to his chest. Chris was brutal, not quite bruising but just short of skull fucking his lover.

And then Chris stopped, Wesker’s eyes widened as he felt his air supply be cut off by the throbbing cock down his throat and the building tears he had tried to keep at bay spilled over and down his reddening cheeks. Trying not to panic, and to stop any further gagging around the embedded cock, his throat flexed from the strain, he maintained eyes on the mirror, not daring to look up, watching as his face turned red from lack of oxygen.

Chris’s voice shook above him, “We agreed to not FUCK with each other’s WORK! I don’t fuck with YOUR labs, and YOU don’t fuck with MY soldiers!” The cock retreated, allowing airflow again. Wesker coughed violently as he used his tongue to push the mouthguards off his teeth to clatter wetly to the floor. A convulsing sob escaped Wesker, overwhelmed with trying to control his strength and stop himself from cumming on top of Chris’s brutality. Their lovemaking having touched upon only some of the things that transpired throughout the evening, but never quite this far.

The fist in Wesker’s hair jerked his head back against the side of the bed, forcing him to have to shift his eyes downward to see their reflection. “LOOK at me!” The order causing the blazing orbs to shoot up into Chris’s raging expression, “YOU broke the rules, Albert.” Wesker could not stop the tears despite trying, but he kept quiet, other than his gasping breaths, listening intently.

“Up on the bed, face the mirror.” Shaking in affirmative as his hair was released, Wesker flexed his legs and slowly rose up off the toy with an obscene wet sound, still dripping from Chris’s earlier mess, and as best he could, leaned back to slide up onto the bed, slowly maneuvering himself so that he faced the mirror. Chris watched him intently, despite the incredible control and having his arms still bound, Wesker was still incredibly graceful, like a sublime feline. Chris was actually very pleased with how far Wesker had come with his new abilities. All their hard work had paid off, mostly on Wesker's part.

Chris allowed himself to back off his arousal. Though Wesker had given him control, he still wanted to please his lover, shower the powerful being Wesker had become with affection despite his anger. The blonde had undoubtedly proved himself this evening, and he would be rewarded for it.

Chris climbed up the bed towards Wesker, who was kneeling, still so incredibly aroused, the head of his erection now a reddish-purple, still dripping onto the mess of sheets, breaths heavy from still trying to regain oxygen, the fully dilated eyes staring at himself in the mirror. Chris slid a hand across the damp skin of Wesker’s collarbone as he made his way behind Wesker once again, observing the pinched expression and grit teeth, still beads of tears leftover from Chris stuffing his cock down the blonde’s throat.

Chris met Wesker’s eyes in their reflection and leaned forward to press a kiss against the back of the blonde’s neck, rubbing his erection against the slick skin of the trembling rear. Sliding the hard flesh between the ample cheeks, Chris nuzzled the blonde’s neck, kissing the skin again lightly, just below one ear lode, testing if Wesker had learned anything from this, “Do you think you deserve to cum, Love?”

Wesker shuttered against the hard flesh that teasingly rubbed against his ass, slipping between his legs to brush along his saturated hole, thighs smeared with cum and lube. Wesker’s face scrunched up in anguish as a small sound escaped him between clenched teeth, but he shook his head in the negative, trying to stop his chest from heaving.

Chris glided his fingers down Wesker’s back to the bound wrists and slowly undid the workmanship to release the blonde’s shaking arms. Tossing the belt to the side, Chris soothingly rubbed each wrist and brought them around to Wesker’s front, pressing against the pale back and forcing Wesker’s body forward on to his hands as Chris continued to grind against the slick skin, teasingly probing but not penetrating.

Chris released the shaking hands that now clenched the ruined sheets, running his fingers gently up the other’s arms to delicately lift Wesker’s chin up to watch once more. Bringing one hand back to grasp his erection, Chris pressed just barely against the muscles clenching in anticipation. Chris lovingly spoke into the damp skin of Wesker’s neck, “Impale yourself.”

Wesker’s breaths hitched through his teeth but slowly pushed back against the hard cock held in place. It slipped inside him with some resistance, the muscles having retightened due to the enhancements his body had undergone. Fully seated against Chris’s hips, his head kept in place, angled to watch as Chris ran his now free hand up the sweat-covered pale skin to mirror the other hand holding the blonde’s head up, leaning to glare darkly over Wesker’s shoulder, Chris whispered, “Ride me.”

Whining low in his throat, Wesker slowly withdrew his body only to be stopped by the tightening hands that slowly enclosed around his neck, forcing him to have to roll his hips instead of rocking his body against the throbbing cock inside him. Chris knew Wesker would break finally as he felt the pale body shudder with each slow roll against his cock. Chris could not help but be pleased, “Fuck, you feel so amazing, Love.” Wanting to thrust into the pliant body but holding back, wanting to see the result of his efforts reach fruition, how far to the edge Wesker could go.

Taunting the Blonde, Chris murmured, “What would you do if I decided to indulge him? Hmm? What if you caught me fucking him? Would you watch as he watched us?”

The rhythm Wesker had set faltered, and a low keening escaped between clenched teeth as the tears renewed, his entire body violently vibrating, trying to maintain focus and control. Chris loved Wesker's reactions, how far he could take him to the brink of insanity, but the blonde was surprisingly able to maintain the pace, for the most part, his straining cock streaming precum. Chris moaned, the renewed tightening of the blonde feeling almost too good to keep his angry facade up any longer, “Would you like to cum Love?”

Wesker cried out, head violently shaking up and down the best he could with the hands around his neck, his body in an amazing state of pain and rapture. Chris smirked darkly, “You may cum when I tell you to.” Wesker sobbed at hearing those words finally, his hips slipped from their rhythm but quickly resumed the slow, agonizing rolling, deepening penetration as he pushed himself further back against the brunette, spreading his legs wider.

Suddenly the hands around his neck slowly increased their pressure, air getting harder to take in as Wesker’s eyes widened, mouth gaping trying to rake in oxygen and the cock he had been riding so agonizingly slow violently pushed him forward into the tightening hands. Chris snapped his hips forward, forcing Wesker to press his hands into the mattress to maintain his position as the brunette took over, angling just right to jam against his prostate menacingly, “Not yet, Love. Just a bit longer.”

Wesker’s eyes shown the panic Chris could feel in the erratic heartbeat under his now clenched hands and the spasming of muscles that started to clench around his cock. Wesker was not yet given permission, but Chris wanted to push him just a bit further. Glaring darkly, Chris continued to create a tantalizing picture for Wesker, “Would you join in if you caught me fucking him? Would you stuff your cock down his throat? Or would you shove your cock into his stretched asshole, and we fuck him together?”

Wesker went limp, widened eyes glazed as tears bubbled forth, face red from the strain of holding back and the lack of air from the hands now clenched tightly around his neck, his mouth agape and no longer able to swallow, excess saliva dribbled down his chin. Chris fucked him even harder, watching now in the mirror at the mess he reduced such a powerful being to, the trust they physically and mentally shared. Chris leaned forward and quietly whispered, “Cum for me, Love.”

The reaction was immediate as the pale body violently climaxed as Chris continued to pound into the spasming body, which gripped him so tightly that he was on the verge of his own release. The blazing irises would have burned him in their reflection if they could as Chris released the hold on Wesker’s neck, allowing a quick, shallow breath into the deprived lungs before an unearthly sound was ripped from the heaving chest. The sight of Wesker completely unhinged was the tipping point for Chris’s orgasm, and he dragged his hands down the other’s back to dig his fingers into the sweat-slick hips bruisingly as he came harshly, burying himself into the blonde as deeply as he was able as the spasming muscles tried to force him out.

Wesker collapse forward into the large mess of bodily fluids, still trying to drag in air, small noises escaping with each gasping breath, and Chris fell with him, unable to keep upright. Wesker’s eyes were clenched shut, but Chris could still see the flow of tears, and he gently wiped them away, tilting the blonde’s chin up to swallow the broken sobs that shook the body beneath him.

.....

They laid there for some time, Wesker calmed down as Chris cradled the shaking blonde in his arms who continued to pretend to be boneless, forcing Chris to grunt to roll him on his side enough to wrap bulky arms around the older man, face almost peaceful minus the dried tears and still glistening sweat across the now relaxed brows.

Chris spooned against Wesker, who was surprisingly not angry with how far the brunette had pushed him. Thinking back across the expanse of the evening, Wesker certainly had enjoyed the challenge of Chris, forcing him to push his limits. Wesker smiled and sighed contently as Chris nuzzled his sensitive shoulder.

Minutes later, Wesker’s eyes shot open as surprisingly nimble fingers brushed over his neck to the leather collar to find the clasp and slowly undo the delicate buckle. Slipping the material from where it had been in place, snug all evening around Wesker’s neck, Chris tossed it over his shoulder as Wesker jerked his head to stare questioningly at the brunette. Chris kissed the blonde’s shoulder, “I think I’ve tortured you enough, Albert.”

Wesker turned over in the brunette’s arms so that they were now facing each other, sliding one still trembling leg over a sculpted hip to drag himself closer. Wesker searched Chris’s face, who looked reluctant at being inspected so fiercely by those burning golden eyes, “Fuck when did you get so dark, Dearheart?” Chris was silent for a moment, finally forcing Wesker to think back to all that he had said that evening and the day prior, “YOU forced MY hand! Remember? Plus, I’ve always been dark when you hand over the reins, you just haven’t noticed.”

Wesker purred as he leaned forward to capture the brunette’s mouth, rocking himself against the other’s groin, already feeling the other’s renewed interest in taking things further. Now that the collar was off, nothing was holding Wesker back from indulging as he reached a hand down between their legs and gripped Chris to stroke the excited flesh, shifting his hips forward to slide his partial erection against the other’s inner thigh. Chris leaned back with a hiss, “Already asking for more?”

Wesker grinned and pulled away and without breaking eye contact, shuffled off the bed to stand on shaking legs, holding his hand out for Chris to follow, “Come Dearheart, we have a few more rooms to destroy before I’d say we’re done, don’t you think?” Chris grinned back, loving that Wesker’s libido had finally matched his own and offered his hand in return. After the assault, it was hard for Wesker to sometimes keep up with Chris’s demands once their relationship was rekindled, but now, no holds barred.

Chris attacked, forcing Wesker to stumble backward on trembling legs as the brunette fought with his mouth, biting, and licking, and sucking. Almost falling over the kitchen table, Chris grabbed Wesker’s hips and maneuvered him the rest of the way through the other’s bedroom doorway to push the blonde harshly to fall backward onto the bed. Chris quickly crawled up Wesker’s body to grab pale ankles and shove the older man's legs up.

Chris forcefully situated himself between the blonde’s spread legs, causing Wesker to whine as Chris thrust his hips forward to glide his erection against his own, the skin over-sensitized from the continuous strain of the evening. Chris slipped his cock lower, pressing incessantly against the tightened muscles, still slick from Chris’s essence. Wesker gasped as Chris persisted and slipped forward until he bottomed out, holding steady against the rekindled trembling of the pale body beneath him.

Chris leaned forward, bowing over Wesker until their foreheads were pressed together, pale ankles still in the brunette’s tight grip, “How many do you want?” The ethereal glowing eyes glazed over, a small cry escaping him as his body shuddered, Wesker somehow managed to answer, “As many as you’ll give me, Dearheart.”

Chris grinned evilly, chuckling, “Oh, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to walk straight the rest of the night then.” Wesker almost regretted his answer as his eyes widened slightly in panic, not sure if being deprived an orgasm was any less agonizing then multiple orgasms, and he knew Chris would do it too. And Chris did, leaving Wesker another trembling mess of sweat and combined bodily fluids, wholly broken down in another tangle of soiled linens.

Chris helped Wesker to shower, who was still violently shaking, cleaning up the mess of their activities; it already being the early morning, and the start of first light already visible. Neither having the energy to clean up either mess of a bedroom, they turned the couch into an improvised bed and settled in against each other, Chris spooning the blonde who was utterly exhausted and barely able to keep his eyes open.

As they lay there, their breaths the only sound in the apartment now, Chris gently cupped Wesker’s face and leaned over him, whispering against the other’s mouth, “I love you, Albert.” Wesker’s eyes slit open, the burning light of ethereal suns pulsed as he gazed up at Chris’s adoring gaze, “I love you too, Dearheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These will focus on shorts involving the timeline during Sacrifice of which I’ve been working on chapter 2 a lot, but I wanted to get this out first before 2 in order to show how much power Wesker is really holding back. Chapter 2 is going to be incredibly brutal (in a different way than this, of course). Hopefully, I can finish it by next weekend.


	2. Binge Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesker gets ahold of alcohol during his recovery and it does not go well. Referenced flashback in chapter 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Wesker are still in upstate NY. Referenced flashback in chapter 4 of Sacrifice and why Dr. Bishop is well known to both Chris and Wesker. Though this falls within the timeline of Desecration, it is referenced in Sacrifice and thus posted in Sacrifice shorts.
> 
> Warnings: heavy drinking, drunkenness, blood, self-injury, sutures, tears, tumbling emotions, mentions of assault, Chris is a good person

At first, it seemed like a good idea. An escape. But it was anything but. It was an absolute nightmare.

Wesker could not remember the last time he was this shitfaced, and he stared in regret at the empty 100 proof vodka bottle that was shattered across the tile floor of his bathroom.

It had to have been some years, and now that he was feeling as awful as he was, Wesker remembered why he had avoided binge drinking and was paying for it dearly.

Not that he was a lightweight. Far from it. There had been a handful of times he drank his subordinates under the table. Even out drinking Chris a few times. However, those were more carefree moments.

Now Wesker could not stop the aching sobs he managed to get out between forceful vomiting of what seemed like several days of meals, burning his throat, mouth, and nasal passages. The involuntary contractions violently wracking his already aching frame.

Finally allowed a reprieve from turning his stomach inside out, he shuffled over to the sink on his hands and knees to wash his mouth out. Using the sink as an anchor, he managed to get to his feet, his right side sagging as he splashed more water in his face as he tried to clean the burning taste in his mouth.

Bracing his upper body on the edges of the sink, he stared at himself in the mirror, and he was surprised at how terrible he truly looked. He tried to quell the shaking of his body, his breaths heaving as tears spilled down his cheeks. Suddenly, the weary expression was replaced with one of utmost rage, and the mirror shattered as he smashed his fist into his reflection.

Pieces of mirror cascaded into the sink and onto the floor. Withdrawing his fist, Wesker saw rather than felt the red that trickled down his fingers and dripped into the sink. Wesker stared down at the shards now splattered with red, captivated as everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Maybe, if he could redirect the pain somewhere else, it would help to alleviate the ghostly aches that plagued him constantly. Wesker reached into the sink, hand trembling, and selected a decent-sized shard of mirror and clenched his fingers around it. The ache was welcome as it allowed his swirling fuzzy mind to focus on something that was real. Something in the present, and not something that had happened months ago. The superficial wounds had supposedly healed, yet at times felt as if he was back on the table and ripped open, broken, bleeding, and being torn apart.

Wesker could feel the sharp edges dig into his fingers and palm. His unfocused glowing eyes watched the blood flow down his arm, dripping off his elbow and staining his blue dress shirt, mesmerized.

Suddenly, Wesker snarled viciously as he clenched his hand tighter around the shard, slicing his skin further and causing a thick cascade of red to flow. Yet, it still wasn’t enough.

.....

Breathy weeping could be heard through the small room, which was suddenly cut off by the sounds of intense retching followed by broken keening.

A voice of concern wafted through the bathroom doorway, “Albert? What the—OH MY GOD!”

Wesker tried to move towards the voice but only managed to lift his head slightly from its perch on the toilet seat to peer at the gaping frightened expression of his caretaker. Spittle and blood dribbled down Wesker’s chin, and more was smeared across his mouth and jaw. Sweat had matted his disheveled hair against his skull like wet feathers, his face pale from apparent blood loss and intense vomiting.

Rocking slightly to try and turn his trembling body that was hunched over the toilet, Wesker was not immediately put off by Chris’s obvious shock, “Chris... Christopher… what are… you doing here?”

*****

Chris did not recognize the phone number that was calling him. Not wanting to miss anything that might be important, he answered after a couple of rings. It was one of Wesker’s assistants, slightly flustered. Wesker did not show up for work yet, and he had missed a very important meeting that they had been planning for a while now. The assistant had tried to call Wesker on his phone, but there had been no answer.

Chris was concerned. It was not like Wesker to miss work or important meetings, for that matter. Chris tried calling Wesker’s cell, but same as the assistant, there was no answer, just ringing and then voicemail. Telling his team he had some business to attend, Chris left for the day. He could only imagine what could have caused Wesker not to show up.

What he was not expecting was to find Wesker pissed-faced, a sobbing slobbering drunken mess covered in blood hugging his toilet. Chris could not tell where the blood had come from as Wesker had been vomiting, hunched over, head on the messy seat, his body partially hidden by the porcelain bowl. He observed the bottle broken, instantly recognizing the strong odor of the liquid Wesker had consumed, “What were you thinking?!”

Wesker shrank back slightly, huddling away but kept his indignant irritated expression. Chris grilled into him, “Where did you get the alcohol, Albert?”

Knowing Chris would chastise him, Wesker turned his eyes downward at the broken bottle pieces scattered everywhere, “I… I found it.”

Chris crossed his arms over his chest, now annoyed that Wesker did not seem to feel guilty for the mess he had made of himself, “You ‘found’ it? Where?”

Blazing eyes snapped up as fast as the alcohol-induced mind could manage, “None… none of your business Christopher Red… Redfield.” Upon these words, Wesker had shifted, and Chris was able to see the rest of the blonde’s body and why he was covered in so much blood. Chris could only gape, dropping his arms and stepping forward. Chris wasn’t sure if the multiple gashes were accidental or purposely inflicted, “Damnit, Albert! You’re bleeding all over the fucking place. Did you do this on purpose?”

Wesker wasn’t sure either, but the way the larger gashes were angled and how deep they were, seemed more intentional than accidental. He stared down at the deep cuts, blinking rapidly, “I don’t… know?”

Chris wanted to step in and bandage Wesker up, but there was more going on here. Wesker had never seemed the type to self-inflict damage, “You’re a fucking mess, Albert. You missed the big conference. Your assistant, Joshua, called me in a panic trying to get a hold of you.”

Wesker rested his head back down into a pool of spittle that had accumulated on the seat, obviously uncaring of the mess, “Oh.” His face scrunched up in disbelief as he stared up at Chris, “That was today?” Suddenly Wesker started giggling, slowly rolling his cheek in his own mess, completely indifferent. Chris’s eye widened. He had never heard Wesker giggle. Ever. The odd sound did not last long, and the giggles erupted into low weeping as Wesker flashed dark red eyes up at Chris, his agony dragging him down further, “I’m so fucking tired, Chris.”

Wesker continued to lament, “I keep reliving it… over and over and over! And the pain. It’s… it’s still there. It won’t stop. The ever-persistent reminder that I still wasn’t strong enough! I couldn’t even stop… I couldn’t stop…” An incoherent anguished sound tore from Wesker’s chest as he arched back to attempt to menacingly move forward, eyes blazing at Chris’s gaping shocked face, “Get out! Get the fuck out, you bastard! Just leave me the fuck alone! Your stupid face is ruining everything by making me feel even more guilty!”

Chris was not having it, his face falling into a stoic expression of no shit taking. There was no way he could leave Wesker in this condition, drunk, bleeding, and a disgusting mess of sweat, spittle, and vomit, and who knows what else. He was going to get Wesker cleaned up and bandaged even if it took all evening, “I am not leaving you here like this, Albert. You need help.”

In an unhinged rage, Wesker screamed as Chris stalked forward and made to lift Wesker up from under his arms, but Wesker lashed out, swinging his arms with jerky movement trying to push Chris away, “Don’t you fucking touch me! Fucking get out! Get out of my fucking face!”

Chris felt a sudden sharp pain in his forearm and wrenched back a few steps, dropping Wesker back onto his hands and knees. There was a long cut along his flesh, and he jerked a disbelieving look at Wesker, who had shrunk back against the wall beside the toilet, eyes wide in fear. Chris watched as Wesker dropped a piece of bloody glass, hands shaking uncontrollably, dripping red from his palm and fingers, and then thick tears as Wesker tried to hide his face and curl up on himself as he pressed further into the tiled wall, “I’m… I’m so sorry. Please! I’m sorry, Christopher! I didn’t mean… Fuck!”

Wesker was completely horrified at his own actions, breaking down more, eyes clenched shut as he pulled at his hair, “I… I want… I just want the pain to stop! I can’t do this any longer, Christopher. I can’t… I don’t… I’m so sorry!” A loud, agonized sound echoed in the bathroom, “I… I can’t exist like this. I don’t want to exist like this! I’m so fucking tired, Chris. So fucking tired.”

To Chris, this confession sounded almost like an attempt on Wesker’s life than anything else, especially how the cuts were made and the amount of blood Wesker had lost, “Albert, I’m not mad at you. I’m worried. You need help, but it will only work if you decide it’s time to get the help you need.” This was not the first time Chris pressed the topic. Chris was able to provide Wesker the physical therapy his broken body so desperately needed to recover, but the mental therapy he could not. Any attempt at mental therapy would only help if Wesker was accepting of it.

Chris’s suggestion of therapy only made Wesker more upset, weeping, and collapsing down on himself further. Chris could only stand and watch, sorrow pressing down on him from all sides that he could not truly help his charge. So, he stepped away, headed towards the nurses’ station, requesting first aid spray, bandages, multiple pre-strung suture packets, and a dustpan.

When he returned, Wesker was hunching over the toilet again, shuddering, making quiet retching sounds. Sighing, he went about sweeping up as much of the glass and mirror as possible. Chris occasionally glanced at Wesker’s form, who seemed physically and mentally exhausted, and watched Chris clean up yet another of his messes from his restful watch on the seat.

Sighing pitifully, Wesker couldn’t stop the trickle of tears as he gazed sadly at Chris. Snuffling, he whispered, “I am a burden to you, always cleaning up after me.” Chris stopped, turning and holding a guarded expression, “Albert, I’ve told you this before. I’m here because I care, and as much as a stubborn asshole you can sometimes be, I will not leave you alone to you….” Chris looked around the bathroom, smears of blood on the tile floor and walls, “to your vices. This isn’t healthy, Albert. This is not an out. You’re miserable. I can plainly see that, but this… this is not the way.”

Sudden viciousness erupted from Wesker as his body tensed, shouting as he tried to advance forward, “Why do you even STILL care?! What’s in it for you?! To make yourself feel better playing nursemaid. Trying to save me?!”

Chris brought his hands up, trying to calm the volatile advancing of the unhinged emotional faucet he had somehow unleashed, “It’s complicated, Albert.”

“It’s always fucking complicated! Isn’t it!” Wesker huffed in a wheezing breath, and his voice cracked, “You should have left me there! Why didn’t you just leave me there?!”

Chris moved forward until he was standing in front of Wesker and slowly knelt down so they were at eye level, “I couldn’t leave you there.” Bloody fists aimed at Chris’s face, but he caught them and forcefully yanked Wesker forward, trapping the shaking hands against his chest and wrapping his arms around the blonde who seemed to almost instantly melt, slumping. The stench of alcohol and sick pungent. They had been here so many times, Wesker losing his shit and Chris diffusing the emotional rollercoaster.

Wesker couldn’t stop the sobs, and through his tears, he quietly asked why. No energy to fight or push Chris away.

Chris answered honestly for once, not sure himself exactly why he rescued Wesker, but it was the simplest conclusion he could come to, “Because I still consider you my friend, no matter how much of a prick you are.” Chris felt Wesker freeze, barely moving except a light trembling, which turned into violent tremors as Wesker tried to push back, but Chris wouldn’t let him go and held the older man in place.

Nothing more was said between them as Chris held Wesker until he had calmed down some. Finally, as Wesker took normal breaths, Chris released him, asking if Wesker needed help to shower. Wesker stated he was unsure, still heavily inebriated. Chris reasoned, “Well, you shower, and I’ll clean up the rest of this mess. If you need help, I’ll be right here.” Somehow, the way Chris said this made Wesker even more upset, but Chris shuffled him to the other side of the bathroom to undress.

Chris told him that he would get some towels and cleaning supplies, so Wesker didn’t think he was being abandoned. By the time Chris returned, Wesker had managed to strip and was already in the shower, sitting on the seat with his head in his hands, quiet noises muffled by the pounding water. Chris could relate sadly, having spent large amounts of time in Wesker’s position, drunk, distraught, except the cause of Chris’s pain was right in front of him. Chris’s pain, however, was tangible; Wesker’s was not.

Maybe Chris was selfish to bring Wesker back and then force his presence upon the blonde, and yet, he thought Wesker would not have recovered as much as he had thus far if he was in anyone else’s care. Chris cleaned up the bloody mess and swept up any more bits of glass, so Wesker didn’t end up cutting his feet. He made sure Wesker had accessible towels and clothes to change into once he was done.

Chris grabbed the soiled clothes and threw them in a bag to go directly to the wash. He tidied up the bathroom as much as he could before stepping out and closing the door until there was only a slight crack. He told Wesker he would be out in the room, situating the next process knowing full well, Wesker would refuse the nurses to come and stitch him up.

Listening intently for any thumps, Chris set out the sutures and bandages on the bed. Surprisingly, the bed seemed to have survived the drunken bender, and Wesker had made a halfhearted attempt at making it. Another sign the older man was feeling off, usually one to make his bed properly, probably remnants of Wesker’s time in OCS*.

Finally, the water turned off, and he could hear Wesker’s wet steps as he shuffled around the bathroom. Reassuring he was still there, Chris called out loud enough that Wesker could hear, “Would you like the nurses to attend to your arm and hand?” There was silence for several minutes, and then the door opened, Wesker slouching in the doorway, face and eyes red, head shaking, “No… Could you… Could you do it? Please? I’m embarrassed…” Chris nodded wearily and directed Wesker to sit on the bed.

Chris grabbed the desk chair and brought it over, sitting in front of Wesker, directing him to place a towel in his lap and lay his arms on it. Chris inspected the cuts, some of which were straight, others not so much, all still sluggishly bleeding. Wesker’s fingers and palm seemed to have the most damage where he had grasped the shard tightly. Chris sighed, bringing his eyes up to inspect Wesker’s face, which was angled to the side filled with silent tears, avoiding any scrutiny.

Sliding gloves on, Chris spray all the wounds with first aid spray and then started with the larger cuts. To try and gauge Wesker’s mental state, he asked quietly as he was concerned that this was more than a drunken mistake, “What were you trying to accomplish by hurting yourself, Albert?”

The glassy eyes shifted to Chris’s face, quietly responding, “I wanted to feel something that was real.”

Chris made eye contact, stopping the delicate work, “There are better ways than slicing your arm and hands open.” Chris saw the lost feeling sweep over Wesker’s expression, guilt settling in as he bit his lip.

Whispering, voice wavering, “Then what do you suggest? What else is there but to divert the pain?”

Wesker had mentioned feeling the pain from his assault several times, intense and seemingly unending, having caught the older man writhing and screaming during flashbacks on several occasions. But apparently, the agony did not stop once he returned to himself and would follow Wesker the rest of the day hidden under a mask of indifference.

Turning back to his task at hand, Chris continued his gentle ministrations. He was going to offer Wesker a local anesthetic but figured he would not mind the sting of the needle and probably even welcomed it, “Would you consider including hand to hand combat into our sessions, Albert?”

Chris glanced up quickly, the blonde’s expression that of dim shock, “What?”

Smiling and returning to the more delicate work on Wesker’s palm and fingers, “Sparring, you know?” Wesker’s silent expression was answer enough. “At least think about it. It would be three-fold, balance, muscle memory, and impact.”

Wesker glanced away, reluctant, bringing his finished arm up across his chest to grasp the opposite bicep, “Perhaps… it might be a... viable alternative.” It took a while, but Chris finally finished, his fingers cramping from knitting skin and trying tiny knots. He disposed of the remnants with the glass shards and left the garbage pail outside the door. As he cleaned up, Wesker had managed to situate himself in his bed, one foot lazing out to touch the floor in hopes to stop the spinning.

Chris returned to Wesker’s side, inquiring if he needed to camp out the night, “Do you want me to stay, Albert?” Wesker silently shook his head no, but Chris saw the ‘yes’ in the pleading serpentine eyes. Chris made a small smile, “How about I stay a bit? Let me take the trash out and drop off your clothes with Nick? Don’t want your stank clothes reeking up the place.”

Wesker couldn’t stop the small chuckle as his eyes started bubbling up, shining in gratitude, and he sniffled and wiped the liquid away quickly with his newly bandaged hand. Chris patted his shoulder, “I’ll be back. Try and rest Albert, you’re going to have a bitch of a hangover tomorrow.”

*****

Wesker slept in much later than normal, and when he woke, his head felt like it was split in half, and he groaned. Bringing a hand up, that too also ached. Cracking his eyes open, it only took a moment for him to shoot upright, wide-eyed, glancing between his bandaged arm and hand, “What the…”

“You were shit faced drunk yesterday and made a complete mess of yourself.” The sudden voice startled Wesker so badly he almost fell off his bed, “I told you not to fucking do that, Chris! You’re going to give me a heart attack someday!” Chris chuckled and stood from the corner desk to sit in the chair next to Wesker’s bed.

Wesker relaxed slightly, rubbing his face and pinching between his brows, “What happened? Why do I feel like utter shit?” Chris crossed his arms over his chest, “You somehow got ahold of alcohol, drank yourself into a stupor, and sliced your arm and hand open.” Wesker froze, leaning back to stare at his arm. Chris continued, “I also cleaned up your mess, sutured you up, and made sure you didn’t get sick in the middle of the night.”

“That can’t be right… I… I…,” Wesker looked up in a panic, attempting to shuffle out of bed, throwing his legs over the side, “The conference??! I’m going to be late!” Chris sighed, bringing a hand up to stop him, confirming Wesker’s fears, “Missed it completely.” Wesker's shoulders sagged and closed his eyes and gingerly laid his aching head back down. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, “Fuck!!”

Chris tried to comfort the anger, “Joshua called me asking where you were because they couldn’t get a hold of you, so I went looking for you and found you hugging your toilet covered in blood, vomit, and God knows what else.” Wesker cringed as he rolled over, holding his head, “Fuck you, Chris.”

Standing, Chris chuckled at the still feisty attitude. Now that Wesker was awake, he could go back to his own work, having told Joshua Wesker had gotten sick and would be out the rest of the day and the next, “I left a bottle of water on your nightstand. I can only imagine how bad your head hurts. Oh, and you’re taking the day off.”

Wesker slowly turned over to glare at Chris, irritation making his eyes glow brightly, but the expression died as he noticed the white bandage poking out from Chris’s slightly rolled-up sleeve, very similar to his own wrappings. In a clipped tone as he turned back over, trying to grab for the bandaged arm, “What is that? What happened?!”

Chris stepped back, glancing down at what Wesker was talking about. Not wanting a screaming match so soon after Wesker waking up, he tried to play it down, “Calm down, it was an accident.”

The explosion was panic-laced anger as Wesker made to stand but ended up sinking back down, his head spinning, “An accident! That does not look like an accident!” Wesker, exhausted and reluctant, stared at Chris with pained guilt, eyes glassy with frustration, “Why would you hide the fact I hurt you from me!”

Chris shrugged, “It’s not important. You were drunk off your ass and didn’t know what you were doing.”

Wesker was distraught, images of the day before filtering through the fuzziness. Hunched over himself, body trembling from barely repressed emotion, Wesker whispered, “Chris… I… I don’t want to keep hurting you. Please… I… I think it’s time.” Looking up, dark bags under tear-filled eyes, exhaustion and pain giving him a haunted look, as he hugged himself.

Chris nodded his head and pulled his wallet out. Wesker watched reluctantly, but when Chris offered him a business card for a Dr. Bishop, head counselor, with a phone number, he took it in a shaking hand. Wesker gazed at the piece of glossy paper, and upon looking back at Chris, who had reclaimed his chair, waiting patiently, Wesker swallowed around the knot in his throat, asking, “Could… could you call for me?”

Chris smiled, “Of course, Albert. Anything for you.”

*****

That was how Wesker had become acquainted with Dr. Bishop. It was long, tiring, grueling, and tedious at times, but Wesker was better off for it.

The nightmares didn’t stop, nor did the flashbacks go away, but they lessened, and Wesker learned a few techniques on how to calm himself down and break out of them without being completely overwhelmed and incapacitated.

Wesker still took long showers afterward, the water soothing and soul cleansing. As much as he hated talking about who and what he was, he was thankful for the acceptance and privacy Dr. Bishop offered in helping him feel more like himself, one step at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hit me pretty hard in the cockles of my heart. Making that first phone call is always the hardest, but it is the support of our loved ones that make it bearable.
> 
> Dr. Bishop relocates to where patients need her the most, thus was in NY for Wesker's recovery and now in DC.
> 
> * Officers Candidate School (it sucks)


End file.
